


The Writing Is Shit

by GilShalos1



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fix-It, Gen, Lady Crane didn't die, She has strong feelings about bad writing though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 15:57:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GilShalos1/pseuds/GilShalos1
Summary: In a caravan, somewhere in Essos ...





	The Writing Is Shit

“The writing is shit.” Lady Crane slipped off her blonde wig and placed it carefully on its stand.

Izembaro glared at her. “It is not shit!”

“They _booed_ me!” she shot back.

“You’ve had bad crowds before –”

“I’ve had people not applaud, because of your bad writing.” Lady Crane poured herself a generous, and in her own opinion, well-deserved tot of rum. “But it’s just this last play where I’ve had people actually boo. I don’t like it, Iz. I don’t blame them –”

He rolled his eyes. “They’re idiots.”

“They’re not idiots, you fucker. The plot makes no sense.”

Izembaro flung himself down on the bed. “It makes perfect sense. It’s the audience who don’t understand.”

Lady Crane put her hands on her hips. “Oh, it makes sense, does it? My character spends three acts balancing the desire for vengeance with wanting to be a good ruler, and in the last five minutes of the play kills a million people because she’s crazy?”

He put his hand over his eyes. “The signs were always there.”

“I play the character, Iz. If the signs were always there, _I’d have seen them_.”

“Look, it’s about setting up a conflict between good and evil –”

“Then why did you write two hours of people who are neither?” she demanded. “I’m not the only one, Izzy. Bobono is devastated to have his role reduced to cock jokes and misdirection. Poor Marie has her role ripped right from under her at the last minute to end up crying in the arms of her boyfriend –”

“Brother,” he corrected.

“Oh, that makes it alright?” She threw up her hands. “Why did you bother to write a character who fights – successfully – to free herself from the expectation she’d live dependent on men only to have her die being dependent on men?”

“It’s romantic.”

“It’s not fucking romantic!” she shouted, loudly enough to make him flinch. “It’s sad, and pathetic, and it turns _her_ character into a helpless woman and _his_ character into … into an alcoholic or something. No wonder people hate it!”

“They hate it because they don’t understand it.”

“They hate it because it’s shit! How many times, Iz, how many times do I have to tell you before you understand? People come because the beginning is terrific, but then, at the end, it just subsides into garbage.”

He stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Look. You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Lady Crane sat down beside him and put her hand on his chest. “Of course.”

“I just had no idea how to end it. I wanted people to be surprised, I wanted it not to be, you know, traditional.” He shrugged. “People were surprised.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Iz. Look. Add some stuff in earlier where my character is actually crazy instead of just angry at people who hurt her. Really crazy, hearing voices.”

Izembaro shook his head. “Then people will know what’s going to happen. If the play lets the audience understand what the characters are thinking –”

She flounced off the bed and poured herself another drink. “All the gods, you are the shittiest writer alive. Letting the audience know what the characters are thinking is _exactly_ how you build suspense! Is my character going to resist her hereditary madness or give in to it? No one gives a fuck unless they know she has the madness in the beginning!”

He pursed his lips. “Do you think it would work?”

“Of course!” Grabbing the wineskin, Lady Crane came back to sit beside him. “Think of how amazing everyone finds it when they realise that it was Lady Catelyn’s treatment of Jon Snow that made her son determined to marry whatsername, leading to both their deaths. The audience reaction to _that_ is incredible.”

He took the wineskin from her and drank. “What about the others? What do I do about them?”

“Have the queen send the extra with the crossbow to kill her brother’s new girl, not him. Then, when he goes back to the queen, it will be to protect the new girl, not because he’s a prat. He has to die, I know, because he’s so horrible in the beginning, but at least give him some inner conflict and let all those early scenes pay off for the audience.” She poked Izembaro in the chest. “You can even have the creepy wheelchair boy say something about ‘the things he does for love’, it’s not like he has any other plot purpose in the third act. And Seven Hells, give Jon Snow more dialogue than ‘she is my queen’. Why not have him telling his sisters about his real parents on stage?”

Izembaro screwed up his face. “That’s too hard to write. I mean, how would they react?”

“If you don’t know, the audience certainly won’t,” Lady Crane snapped. “And why are Jon’s sisters so weird to my character? Even before they know.”

He shrugged. “They’re worried about her madness.”

“Except she’s not mad at that point, is she? She hasn’t said anything mad, she hasn’t done anything mad, she’s saved their brother’s life and she’s come to try and save theirs, and more to the point –” Lady Crane emphasised her next words with sharp pokes in his ribs. “Two. Dragons. She has two dragons, Iz! What kind of idiot is openly rude to a woman with dragons, tell me that.”

“Alright, alright!” He pushed her hand away. “I’ll change it so they pretend to be nice. And have your character say something mad-ish.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Anything else?”

Lady Crane refilled her glass. “Well. Are you absolutely wedded to ‘ambitious women go crazy with power’ as your overarching theme? Because …”

 Izembaro listened, and frowned, and scribbled notes.

The troupe’s next performance of _A Song of Ice and Fire, in three acts_ was _much_ better received by audiences.  

In fact, it became the most popular play in their repertoire, and they went on performing it until no one could even remember the way it had originally ended.


End file.
